


A Bar in Colorado

by sharkie335



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Stargate Atlantis, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Iron Man 1, Pre-Stargate Atlantis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:38:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkie335/pseuds/sharkie335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark walks into a bar and meets... Peter Kavanagh</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bar in Colorado

Tony lifted the scotch and took a sip as he surveyed the bar. It was early yet. Usually he wouldn’t be here this early, but there had been some sort of weird, itchy energy under his skin, waking him and driving him out of the room.

He wasn’t quite sure why he was _here_ \- a little rinky dink bar in Colorado. Okay, yeah, he was supposed to be meeting with some bigwigs at NORAD about a missile contract, but honestly, they should have had to come to him. But somehow, Pepper had looked at him and he’d ended up here against his will.

There was a commotion across the room, catching his eye, and he looked over. It only took him a moment to figure out what was going on - the tall, weedy scientist with a scraggly ponytail appeared to be attempting to hit on an air force chick, and getting shot down for his efforts. He snorted. Good for her.

“Not if you were the last man on earth,” he heard clearly, and was unsurprised when ponytail turned tail and made a beeline to the bar, parking his ass right next to Tony’s.

“Give me a double,” ponytail said to the bartender, who looked at him like she’d scraped him off her shoe but poured the drink.

“You know, if the owner catches you hitting on airmen again, he’s going to kick you out, Kavanagh,” she said. “He told you to cut that shit out.”

“I’m shipping out tomorrow,” ponytail - Kavanagh - said. “Come on, Debbie - cut me some slack.”

“You’ve gotten all the slack you’re going to get,” she said. “Cut it out or leave. Those are your options.” With that, she moved to take an order from a dark haired man at the other end of the bar.

“Women,” Kavanagh bit out. “I don’t even know why I try.”

Tony started to move down the bar as well, not wanting to risk getting caught up in this dude’s whining, but he didn’t move fast enough. Kavanagh looked up and caught sight of him. “Hey, aren’t you Tony Stark?”

Normally, Tony would have just walked away, most likely with a smart ass comment. But he was bored, and when he was bored he did stupid shit. Like apparently acknowledge people like Kavanagh. Pretending to be startled, he ran a hand over his face, stroking his beard. “Why yes, I do appear to be Tony Stark. Wow, what a relief. I was afraid that I was someone else.”

Kavanagh’s face twisted, as if he didn’t find Tony amusing. That was a shame, because Tony was _always_ amusing. “I suppose you’re here to meet with the bigwigs at the Mountain?”

“Well, there certainly wouldn’t be any other reason I’d be _here_ , now would there? I mean, skiing in Colorado is great, but not in August.” Tony picked his drink back up, planning to just walk away, but some masochistic part of him refused to let him.

“I suppose you’re meeting with Hammond? And O’Neill?” It was weird, but Kavanagh didn’t look like he was just making small talk. 

“That’s the plan. Meeting at noon tomorrow.” And with luck, he’d make the bottom line for about the next three months with the missiles that he hoped to convince them to buy. It would get Obi off his back, at the very least.

Kavanagh snorted. “Figures. Couldn’t bring you in early enough to do any actual good.”

Tony blinked. “I do plenty. What’s the rush, anyway - we’re not going anywhere right now.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kavanagh muttered. “I’m going plenty far away.”

Part of Tony was curious. Part of him just didn’t give a shit.. And frankly, he was too tired to want to continue this conversation anyway. “Well, they’ll catch up to you eventually.”

“If we’re lucky.” Kavanagh downed the last of his drink and then tapped the bar. “Hey, Debbie. Give me another. Buy one for Tony, here.”

Debbie came over, rolling her eyes at Kavanagh. “You’ve had about enough. Didn’t you say you’re heading out tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but god knows when we’ll be back. And I know that Weir isn’t exactly packing booze.” Kavanagh turned a passable set of puppy dog eyes on Debbie. “Come on, don’t be a - “

“Watch how you finish that sentence, Kavanagh,” Debbie said. “I guarantee that it’ll end badly for you.”

Tony couldn’t help but agree. He found himself sympathizing somewhat with Debbie - Kavanagh was exactly the kind of overbearing prick that he found himself having to be nice to to sell his products. It was what he liked least about his job.

Kavanagh looked like he swallowed a lemon, but he nodded and plastered a fake looking smile on his face. “Right, yeah. I’ll be good. Just the drink. _Please._ ”

She huffed a sigh, but poured the two drinks, pushing one over in front of Tony. Tony picked it and saluted her with it before tossing half of it back. 

He was really tempted to just walk away with it, but some part of him was apparently having a weird night, because he looked at Kavanagh and said, “Good luck with where ever you’re shipping off to. Hopefully what I’m selling will catch up to you sooner rather than later.” With that, he did walk away, ignoring the sputtering behind him.

***

As he cleared through security the next morning he focused on his presentation, on how these missiles would be useful in protecting American lives and American interests. He noticed that there was a palpable air of excitement throughout the base, but chalked that up to his arrival.

He didn’t think about Kavanagh at all.


End file.
